Debut
by Tari Silmarwen
Summary: Robin wasn't ready for Slade to send him out of the Haunt.


(A/N)- I participated in Whumptober this year! I didn't do a great many prompts, just sort of picked out my favorites from the list. But anyway, it was a nice little opportunity to indulge in some Robin whump, because he's one of my favorite victims.

This one was done for the prompt "Shaky Hands". Was literally the first thing I thought of when I read that one. Sorry Robin.

Enjoy my dear readers!

Disclaimer: ...It might actually be better that I don't own Teen Titans, y'all might get sick of the ANGST.

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**Debut**

Robin lay staring face-up at the plain gray ceiling of his room. He tapped his fist against the wall by the side of the bed idly, just for something to break the monotonous silence. He was waiting to see if he would eventually get tired enough to fall asleep but, given the track record of the past few nights, he wasn't holding out much hope.

There was too much fearful buzzing in his head for that.

He shifted position, trying to get more comfortable. With a sigh he stopped knocking on the wall, smearing both hands down his face.

He tried to calculate out how many hours it was until morning. Dinner had been probably an hour ago so it was… seven? Eight-o'clock?

_Hell_ he wished there was a window in this room.

He was just considering whether or not to give up and do a few stretches when footsteps sounded outside in the hallway. Heavy-gaited and purposeful. It was _him_.

Robin shot up, scrambling quickly to his feet, a spike of adrenaline shooting up like a splinter through his spine.

He inhaled slowly, trying to compose himself before he had to face the villain. The footsteps stopped. The lock clicked. A seamless crack appeared in the wall and a section swung out.

Robin steeled himself as he and Slade came face to face. The Boy Wonder's even glare met the impassive single eye.

Slade stared back calmly, hands clasped behind him.

"Come, apprentice," he said, already turning back towards the hallway. "It's time to put you to the test." He strode off, the unspoken expectation for Robin to follow lingering in the air behind his wake.

Robin smothered a groan as he fell into step behind Slade. _More training_, he thought miserably. _Great_. And just when he thought he might get a break from it. He was _definitely_ going to be exhausted in the morning now.

Assuming Slade would let him sleep at all tonight.

The corridors seemed even darker than normal as he followed Slade through the haunt. Robin squinted, straining his eyes to see through the dim passage. They passed through into the main chamber, lit pale blue from the wall of screens to the right, showing multiple camera feeds of the city.

It was dark outside. Nighttime. The sun had already gone down.

The end of another day with him trapped here, Robin thought sourly.

He distracted himself from that disheartening knowledge with a glance around the room. Slade had blueprints for something up on another screen. Looked like some kind of thermal laser. His belt and the armor pieces that went with his uniform were arranged neatly on a table off to the side. One camera feed cycled through shots of empty city streets.

Or, almost empty; with a sharp wrench in his chest he caught a glimpse of Starfire and Beast Boy out on patrol.

Pain burned in his heart, turning into anger, and Robin clenched his fists, ready to spit out vitriol the moment Slade said anything.

"Suit up," the villain ordered, nodding towards the table with the rest of his uniform. "You're going out tonight."

Robin froze. The harsh words died in his throat before he could speak them, and his mouth went suddenly dry.

He tried to process what Slade had said. He couldn't have heard right.

"…What?" he blurted.

He was going out? Out of the haunt? But… but that didn't…

"There's a prototype thermal blaster being kept in the Needle Spire's main research wing," Slade explained, not even looking at Robin as he tapped through something on the console. "You're going to steal it."

A pinprick of anxiety scraped up his back. The Needle had ridiculously tight security. There was no way he was going to be able to get in and snatch the device without tripping some kind of alarm. Even for him it wasn't possible.

And if he tripped an alarm the Titans would be sure to get the alert and—

With a jolt, the cold realization dawned across him, and the pit of his stomach dropped with a sickening lurch.

Slade knew that. This… this was deliberate.

_"It's time to put you to the test."_

The words echoed in his head, mockingly.

This was his debut, he realized. His grand entrance into the public eye as Slade's apprentice.

Slade was ready to announce their arrangement to the world.

His chest constricted. He felt his eyes widening, felt electric flickers dancing up and down his nerves.

He couldn't move.

His eyes darted back and forth between Slade, the screens, the blueprints, the door… A roaring alarm seemed to be ringing in the back of his head.

"I…" he stammered.

_I'm not ready_, he wanted to say. He would _never _be ready. This wasn't happening. Slade couldn't be sending him out against his friends so soon. Not so soon. Not now.

His stomach coiled with bile.

When a few more moments passed with Robin still locked up, unmoving, Slade glared back over his shoulder, a dangerous look festering in his one eye.

"I believe I gave you an order, _Robin_," he said, the words seething, carrying the weight of his implied threat.

Robin turned a fearful, desperate look at Slade. Begging with his eyes.

_Please don't make me do this_, Robin pleaded inside his head.

Slade narrowed his eye ever-so-slightly, shifting around, letting Robin have a quick flash of his finger teasing the trigger to the probes.

Robin swallowed thickly, his eyes dropping towards the table. He stared at the armor pieces a tick or two more but then, acutely aware of Slade's eyes on him, and what he would do if Robin failed to comply, he forced his paralysis aside, forced himself to move.

He reached out for the shin guards.

The first one snapped on easily. His hands fumbled with the second, having trouble aligning it properly. With a click it finally latched into place and Robin was already picking up the kneeplates and thigh guards.

His mind was numb as he suited up. He tried to concentrate on just moving his hands, getting the straps in place. Because if he let himself drift for even a moment he would start to imagine their faces… imagine their looks of horror and anger and fear when they saw him—saw him—

His hand gripped the end of his belt clumsily and it slipped out of his fingers as soon as it was off the table, falling to the floor with an awkward metal _clunk!_

Robin flinched, curling inwards self-defensively, quickly bending down to pick it back up. He could feel Slade's eyes on him, watching him, silently criticizing, waiting to pounce on any sign of defiance from him.

The clasp rattled as Robin struggled to lock the belt buckle together. Metal scraped against metal as it refused to latch for him. He willed his hands to steady and shuddered with relief when it finally took, something tightening in his throat.

Was the air in the room getting thinner? It seemed harder to breathe all of a sudden. His breaths came labored and unsteady and his vision felt like it was tunneling as he struggled awkwardly with his vambraces.

Robin glanced down as he lowered his arms. His left vambrace was a little skewed; he reached back up to fix it.

He stopped, noticing that his hand was vibrating violently. That his whole arm was trembling.

Oh, he realized dully. There was nothing wrong with the air in here at all.

He was just terrified.

His shaking hands almost wouldn't obey him as he lifted the collar to his neck. The latch kept slipping from his fingers. He fumbled blindly, frantically trying to fit the hooks together. The longer he struggled, the more dread and panic began to build up in him. He didn't dare look up at Slade.

_C'mon, c'mon.._. he begged.

He held in a whimper, his throat squeezing.

Finally he felt the hooks catch and let out the breath he'd been holding. He was still shaking, his breaths coming shorter and shorter.

He felt his throat catch as Slade stirred, moving towards him. The villain reached to put something in both of his ears; Robin felt metal and thin grating and assumed they were radio earpieces. He grimaced as they were shoved in deep enough so that they wouldn't fall out.

He curled his shaking hands into fists, clenching both them and his jaw tightly. The panic was vibrating through every limb now. He was sure it was visible to Slade, but the man paid no heed.

Slade stepped back, placing a steadying hand on Robin's trembling shoulder.

"You'll do fine," the villain assured him.

Robin jerked back as if scalded, yanking himself away from the comforting gesture.

Slade simply let his hand drop and resumed his normal authoritative pose.

"I suggest you get going," he said.

Taking in one long, shaky inhale, Robin forced his emotions down. He unclenched his fists, then looked around the room in a slight daze.

"Which… which way?" he asked, wincing at how timid and wavering his voice sounded.

On cue a door opened on the far side of the chamber and a sladebot stepped through, standing aside at guard.

Robin willed away a sudden bout of nausea as he walked stiffly towards the open door. There was another sladebot waiting just outside, and both of them flanked him to the front and behind as they escorted him up a long staircase and out through a rooftop access.

The feral corner of his brain was screaming to run, to shove past the sladebots and just _flee_. But he knew what Slade would do if he tried, so he held in the impulse as the sladebot in front of him pushed open the door.

He felt a slap of cold air hit his face and he gasped. The night had a fresh, clean scent that his lungs drank in eagerly, too long used to the stuffy, oppressive, steam-filled heat of the haunt.

The momentary relief was smothered quickly under another bout of crippling dread.

The city was laid out before him like a glittering carpet. He could see the Tower in the distance, gleaming with reflections from the bay. His chest tightened again upon seeing it, and Robin strained to intake breath, willing himself not to break down, not to let the claustrophobic pressure take hold of him again.

The cold, logical part of his brain was already picking out the path he needed to take.

He stood there, hesitating near the roof's edge, a burning reluctance and fear creeping at the front of his chest.

This was it. He had to face the Titans.

Robin clasped one shaking hand over his other wrist, struggling to calm down. He let Bruce's voice fill his head, instructing him on how to tramp down unwanted emotions during battle.

Focus. There was nothing but the mission. All he had to do was get in, and get the job done.

Maybe he would be in and out quick enough that he didn't see the Titans at all, a small hopeful part of him added.

He exhaled slowly, feeling a robotic numbness falling over him. The panic in him faded. He waited until his breathing was back under control.

Then, he stepped back a few paces and took a running leap off the top of the building.


End file.
